Laughter, and Other Things Which Make No Sense
by raedbard
Summary: SLASHHETTHREESOME: Somewhere, in an American hotel, three people are doing something stupid.


**Title:** Laughter, and Other Things Which Make No Sense  
**Author:** Raedbard  
**Fandom:** The West Wing  
**Rating:** R to NC-17  
**Pairing:** CJ/Toby/Sam. All at once this time.  
**Disclaimer:** I make no claim to be Aaron Sorkin or John Wells, I just like to borrow their characters and make them do morally reprehensible things to each other.  
**Word Count:** c. 1,500  
**Timeline/Spoilers:** Sometime in the first season. No spoilers.  
**Summary:** Somewhere, in an American hotel, three people are doing something stupid.

LAUGHTER, AND OTHER THINGS WHICH MAKE NO SENSE

CJ wakes, unsure of where she is. She is lying on her front with one hand cast over the side, naked and touched by the sunlight which falls in a solid shaft across her shoulders. She shrugs into the heat, warming her muscles and wishing that her brain could benefit from the same exercise. It's a big bed - fit for kings - and its sheets are soft and smooth. There are two ties (one brown, one blue) which she glimpses thrown over the foot of the bed and, lying thrown aside on the floor, about an inch from her fingers, two pairs - disarranged - of men's shoes. She reaches out, touches the leather; remembers.

Toby lies on his back in the centre of the bed, his hands folded across his stomach in an attempt to keep his fingers still. He has not yet slept and has resorted to the patterns of the wallpaper for entertainment. His body, his skin, the soles of his feet are tingling with self-consciousness and the magnitude (or lack thereof) of his release. He has spent the last three hours willing his body not react to anything else, but every few seconds he looks over at CJ and sometimes, his head turned the other way, he rubs his knee against the plump part of her thigh.

Sam sleeps curled up and covered, his face turned towards Toby and his hand resting in the hollow above Toby's hip, his fingers following the valley which leads down between his legs. When he wakes, silent but for the deep intake of breath which seems involuntary, he sees that Toby is watching CJ and that CJ is arching her back into the sunshine. Sam wishes he could reach her and stroke her hair between his thumb and forefinger. She is beautiful in the light - golden and majestic, and he understands Toby's looks now: he knows what it is like to want lick the whole length of CJ's long back. Sam is the first one to speak.

"So, best trip yet?"

She had never slept with Toby when either of them were not drunk and doesn't know quite how to approach the problem when sober. She and Sam smile at him, laugh at him, try to coax him from his clothes with jokes, with words until they both realise, with a brief look between themselves, that words are the wrong tools with which to seduce Toby Ziegler, who says:

"I really don't want to be ... you know ... around you two. I mean, have you even looked at yourselves lately?"

"We can't help our beauty, Toby," Sam says, already slipping out of his shirt, placing it over the back of the one chair in the room.

"Nor your lack of it," she adds.

"Yeah, thanks. That's great."

CJ watches him for a moment as he stares at his shoes from his position on the bed and she smiles as his eyes flick over to her own bare feet. She steps forward to him, arching her foot more than she needs to, but Sam, with his hand brushing across her arm, gets there first. CJ watches Sam kneel down between Toby's legs and begin to stroke his thighs in long, gentle-looking passes from hip to knee. Now she grins, awarding Sam bonus points in her head and bending forward to kiss the thin whorl of hair at the back of his head. She hears a long inward breath from Toby, into which he manages to inject sarcasm, as she climbs onto the bed behind him and runs her hands down his arms.

"Sam - "

"Don't trouble yourself with the dispensation of cynical wisdom at this point, Toby. You're getting laid and that's the end of it. CJ and I have decided."

"We have that," she says, her fingers squeezing Toby's shoulders now. "Give it up, Ziegler. Or have it taken."

"You're in league with him?" Toby says, turning his head round to her.

CJ smirks and strokes Toby's cheek, "We're teamsters."

"Yeah," Sam says, his hands mirroring CJ's massage of Toby's shoulders.

"Team Toby."

"Oh for the love of God, CJ."

"The next time you say that I want a more complimentary tone, my friend."

"We are not friends!" Toby says, "I don't know what kind of freakass dynamic this is, but it's nothing - _nothing_ - like friendship!"

CJ sees Sam move his left hand deep between Toby's legs and press his palm hard against him; she chuckles as the shudder goes through Toby's body and into hers and she moans a little, anticipating her turn at Sam's hands.

"Oh, Toby ... " Sam says, his voice low and muffled.

Her face pressed deep down into Toby's shoulder and her right hand finding Sam's shoulder, CJ laughs: "And I say thee _yay_, Sam Seaborn."

It takes time for them to get Toby out of his clothes, even though his body is becoming more tractable with every pressure and stroke of their hands. CJ takes the top half, Sam the lower; they lay Toby out on the enormous hotel room bed (which seems, to CJ's mind at least, to have been designed for threesomes) and have their way with him. CJ laughs as she pulls his shirt buttons open, covers his pale skin with her tan and kisses him. She can't stop to take in the sheen of wonder that covers his eyes, shining dark in the lamp light, because if she stops too long she won't be responsible for what her body will lead her to do, what her heart could make her say in the morning. She laughs, and lets him suck her fingers, hooks her right leg over his left and rubs the sole of her foot against Sam's chest, trying not to wonder if his skin is the softest she's ever felt. Soon she sees Toby's hips stutter upwards, hears Sam's soft words to him and feels Toby's orgasm, wet and strong, splash her ankle. She laughs and bends to kiss him, lightened and careless: she is glad it was Sam who was the first to make him come; afraid of having that kind of power over Toby. She is unaware, or unwilling to know, that she already has.

CJ lies with her body curled at the head of the bed, her hips a place for Toby's shoulders to rest; he can just reach her mouth with his own. It is easier for Sam to kiss her since his head lies next to her own, his legs caught between Toby's, but he seems more interested in sucking her nipples into his mouth and tasting the freckled skin there. So CJ slips her tongue into Toby's mouth and remembers the taste of this man she used to know and lets her other man learn her own tastes.

Eventually Toby breaks the kiss, and when, after a long moment, she opens her eyes she sees him staring and understands that he is done being the toyed-with party in their gathering. He sits up and covers her hipbones with his hands, finding again a ticklish spot in her skin which she knows he enjoys revisiting. CJ watches him stare at Sam too, but briefly, before he smiles and slips his hands down between her legs, coaxing them apart with the play of his fingers. His thumb rubs against her and comes away wet and, as he nudges her leg up and over his shoulder, he strokes Sam with it, leaving a glistening mark on Sam's shoulder. This rouses him from her skin and as Sam raises his head Toby runs his thumb over his lower lip; Sam, ever oral, sucks a new taste of CJ's from Toby, smiling. She watches Sam and Toby kiss, and, finding that watching them makes her even wetter, she runs her heel hard into Toby's shoulder to ask him back, finally, to her.

Toby knows, always seemed to know, how to make her come: hard and long, pulse after pulse flowing through her from his tongue. He feels broader between her thighs and his beard feels soft, as it never seems to against her mouth. He moans too when she comes, and she knows he is opened by her release; that, if he let her see his face, which he will not, his eyes would be wet like his mouth. He turns away as Sam comes to her, but CJ reaches out for Toby's hand, asking him not to go far. Sam makes it a circle when he takes Toby's other hand and CJ wishes she could kiss them both, and let the circle close.

Sam is strong and heavy and seems at first obscenely young to her, all smooth skin and gentle kisses. But he doesn't fuck her like a young man; he is slow and solemn, careful with her pleasure and making her gasp and curve into his body. Toby is close, kissing her neck in a spot he knows well. She squeezes hard on Toby's hand when she comes for the second time, her other hand in Sam's soft hair.

These men make her laugh out her orgasm, breathing out and swallowing back in all the air in the room.


End file.
